The Mathematician and His Asians: wish come true

Dear Lucas,

I wished for you upon a shooting star. You're my little star baby come true. You're my answered prayer. You're my tiny miraculous wonder.

It was a chilly, wet evening. Your dad, Uncle Shawn, and I were making a few laps around a darkened walking track. I had underestimated how cold it would be that night and was regretting not bringing along a hoodie, but I found the chill in the air exciting, invigorating, a whisper of a reminder that winter was right around the corner. The thought of winter made me feel hoppy, giddy with the images of Thanksgiving, Christmas, and snow dancing around my head.

And then, right in the middle of my hopping and skipping, I saw it. For the first time ever, I saw a star go streaking across the sky. I couldn't believe it. I had always wanted to see a shooting star. It was on my bucket list of things to experience. And here it was! My shooting star!

Your dad and uncle hadn't seemed to notice that they had left me behind and were just plodding on ahead, probably still in the middle of an engaging conversation about some Atari game featuring Captain Picard playing baseball against Chewbacca. Or something like that. I nearly took off running after them to share my star excitement and I nearly forgot to make a wish. Nearly. But not quite.

I made my wish upon that shooting star, just for fun, just because that was a thing I had always wanted to do, just so I could have that one moment of childlike anticipation. I squinched my eyes closed as tight as they would go, and I wished. I wished, wished, wished for you, Lucas. I wished for you to come into this world. I wished for God to choose me to be your mommy. I wished for you to be my special little boy, my little hug buddy, my chubby partner in crime. I wished to know you, to hold you, to love you. I squinched my eyes and wished, wished, wished.

You are my fantastic star wish come true, lovebug.

I never knew how much love I could give until I met you. Watching you grow up this past year has been one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. You smile and frustrations melt. You laugh and everything makes sense. You hug me and time loses all meaning. You squeal and hop and wave your arms around and I'm pretty sure flowers just up and grow. Seriously. Getting to know you and getting to love you has made the last 365 days a true joy, memorable and fulfilling beyond words. I cannot wait to see the man you grow up to be.

Oh but please, please, please don't grow up too fast. Gnaw on the broom. Smoosh your nose on the screen door. Belly laugh until you're out of breath over me pretending to be a Rockette. Be my little boy for a little while longer. You're only one year old; there are so many more things just waiting to be drooled on.